


Carry Me Like a Secret

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cobb makes a very brief appearance, Drugging, Eames' love language is acts of service, Getting Together, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Injuries, POV Arthur, and by acts of service I mean picking Arthur up like a sack of rocks, this is actually sweet and non-angsty I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: Arthur was very particular about his space and being touched, and certainly wasn't one to let people pick him up. But he supposed every rule had its exceptions
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 116





	Carry Me Like a Secret

There were multiple ways to deal with sub-security, ranging from the subtle to an all-out firefight, but using the dreamer as bait to distract the projections while the other person extracted the target information was by far Arthur’s least favourite. Particularly when he was the dreamer. 

The dream design wasn't exactly helping either. He knew _why_ Ariadne had given the dream a post-downpour dampness- hell, he'd been the one to suggest it in the first place based on the mark's love of gothic novels and gloomy weather- but it made running away from projections far more precarious. Wet cobblestones weren't easy to run on and he'd nearly slipped several times already. Eames seemed to be faring slightly better, but even he'd almost gone down a time or two.

A hail of gunfire interrupted Arthur's thoughts and he quickened his pace. By his guess they probably had about 15 or 20 minutes left before the end of the dream. It'd take a bit of caution but it'd be doable, even with the less than ideal conditions. He'd just have to be careful.

An attempt to turn into an alleyway a bit too quickly and at a bit too sharp of an angle was what finally sent him flying. The impact as he landed sent a white hot flash of pain up his leg and he swore loudly. Eames slowed to a halt, looking back at him with a frown. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arthur stood up, wincing at the stab of pain as he put weight on his leg; he must've twisted his ankle. "Just a misplaced step, that's all."

Eames nodded and took off again down the street. Arthur followed, doing his best to ignore the pain that came with every step. Running on a twisted ankle certainly wasn't a good idea in the real world, but he didn't have to worry about lasting effects here. All he had to do was push through the pain for a bit and then he'd wake up perfectly fine. He'd certainly had worse injuries, he could get through this no problem. He _had_ to if the job was going to get done. 

Running for an extended period on an injured ankle was harder than he'd anticipated though. After a few minutes he was starting to lag behind Eames, gritting his teeth as the pain got worse with each step. Eames slowed, glancing back behind them to where Arthur could hear the projections starting to gain on them. “Come on, we need to go.”

Arthur grimaced as he took another step, pain shooting through his leg. He didn’t think his ankle was broken, but the growing pain was beginning to make him question that. “I know, I’m coming.” He tried to move as quickly as he could, but it was getting increasingly difficult to put weight on his injured leg. Cobb was going to fucking owe him for this.

Eames hurried over, glancing behind them again quickly. “Great time for you to get injured, you know.” He wrapped his arm around Arthur’s back, helping support his weight. “Very convenient.”

“Not like I’m enjoying it either.” Arthur draped his arm across Eames’ shoulders, grateful for the help. He tried his best to keep up with Eames’ pace as he set off. It was easier now that he wasn’t using his injured ankle as much but his movements were still awkward enough that the pace was difficult for him. Not that he blamed Eames for wanting to move quickly; he could already hear the projections shouting not far behind them, and it wouldn’t be long before they were in sight.

Even with the extra support, though, moving at any significant speed quickly became difficult. It wasn’t long before he was gripping Eames’ jacket tightly, trying to keep himself upright. Even the minimal weight he was putting on his ankle was starting to become more than he could handle. Eames glanced over at him, concerned. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Arthur gritted his teeth as another stab of pain shot through his leg. Maybe his ankle was broken. “Fan-fucking-tastic.” He frowned slightly as Eames slowed his pace. “I’m already slowing us down enough, we can’t afford to slow down more.”

“I know, which is why,” Eames stooped slightly, hooking his other arm behind Arthur’s knees and standing back up with Arthur in his arms in a smooth motion before setting back off at a faster pace, “you’re done walking for now.”

Arthur blinked, surprised. He'd known Eames was strong, but being picked up and carried this easily was…unexpected. He looked up, but he couldn't quite see Eames' face from this position. That was a bit of a comfort, actually; at least it meant Eames couldn’t see how red Arthur was sure he was getting. "I…are you okay? Carrying me?"

"Course I am. Wouldn't have picked you up if I wasn't and it's not like there were a lot of options left anyways." Eames paused. "You good being carried?"

"I-yeah." Arthur was far more aware of how heavily Eames was breathing now that his head was next to his chest. “I can…I can still walk if I’m too heavy, it’s alright, my ankle isn't that bad.”

“Arthur, we both know your ankle’s probably broken. You can barely stand on it, let alone move fast enough for us to avoid getting caught. And besides,” Arthur could hear him grinning, “you’re a pretty small guy. I can carry you just fine.”

“Piss off.” Eames chuckled and readjusted his grip slightly, shifting Arthur easily as he moved. He really didn’t seem to mind carrying Arthur, moving far quicker than they’d been going previously. And being carried like this wasn’t…entirely unpleasant either. Eames’ one hand was resting on his ribs, the other gripping the back of his thigh, holding him steadily in place. It was certainly at least impressive. 

Arthur kept his arm wrapped around Eames' shoulders and rested his head in the crook of Eames' neck, trying not to wince as Eames ran. It was certainly better than running himself, but the slight jostle every time Eames took a step set off a flash of pain nonetheless. He did his best not to focus on it, but he also wanted to avoid focusing on the feeling of Eames carrying him if possible. He could already feel his face starting to burn, and he had no desire to make that any worse. This was an embarrassing enough situation as it was and he had no doubt Eames would tease him about it when they woke up, he didn't need to give Eames something else to tease him about later too. After a moment he settled on simply focusing on the sound of the projections behind them, trying to gauge how far ahead they were; it seemed like the safest option. 

Eames continued through the streets for several minutes before ducking into a small alley as the echoes of Non Je Ne Regrette Rien started drifting through the streets. He set Arthur down gingerly, careful not to put weight on his bad ankle. “Okay, we should be good to just wait here for the last few minutes until the timer’s up. I think we’re far enough ahead of the projections for that.”

Arthur nodded, trying to ignore how hot his face felt. Eames looked similarly red, but he _had_ been carrying Arthur so it was probably just from exertion. “Yeah.” He paused, grimacing slightly. “Can we maybe agree that the others don’t need to hear about this?”

Eames grinned, his arm back around Arthur’s shoulders as he helped him sit down. “I don’t know, I think Cobb would find it pretty funny. And Yusuf would definitely never let you live it down.”

“Eames…”

“Don’t worry,” Eames laughed. “As funny as it would be to watch, I won’t tell them about your little ‘damsel in distress’ moment.”

“What? That’s _not_ what that was.”

“Really? Because I _did_ just carry you bridal style as we ran away from people trying to kill us because you couldn’t walk. If that isn’t you being a damsel in distress, I don’t know what is.”

Arthur glared at him. “I’m starting to wish you’d just left me behind.”

Eames grinned again, leaning against the wall next to him. “And give up the chance to have something like this to hold over you? Absolutely not.” They sat in silence for a moment before Eames nodded towards Arthur's ankle. "How's it doing?"

"Hurts like a bitch. I definitely broke it." Arthur paused, trying to breathe through a particularly strong wave of pain. "Thanks for carrying me. I don't think I'd have gotten much farther on my own." 

Eames nodded. "Course. Can't have you getting shot and the dream collapsing before we're through. And besides, like I said, you're pretty small so it's not like you're difficult to carry."

"Eames, we're the same size."

"No, we're the same _height_ ," Eames corrected. "Very much not the same size."

Arthur rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall as the music came to an end, smiling slightly. "And you say _I'm_ the overly specific one."

XXX

“You are _not_ making another cup of coffee.”

Arthur frowned. “Yes, I am.”

“Arthur, you’ve had four cups already and it’s not even 10am.” Eames crossed his arms. “You don’t need a fifth one.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that.” He started walking towards the counter again, but Eames blocked his path. Arthur sighed. “Come on, I’m tired.”

“Well, that’s what you get for only getting 2 hours of sleep because you stayed up until 4 in the morning working. Still doesn’t make five cups of coffee a good idea.” 

Arthur tried to move around him but Eames moved with him, refusing to get out of his way. Across the workshop, Cobb laughed. “Come on, Eames, you know as well as I do that’s not a fight you’re going to win. I’ve been trying to get Arthur to drink less coffee ever since I met him and I still haven’t managed it.”

“Maybe.” Eames grinned suddenly. “But I doubt you tried this.”

Arthur’s frown deepened. “I don’t think you’re going-” He let out a surprised yelp, the rest of his sentence forgotten, when Eames suddenly moved towards him, dipping down and catching Arthur’s waist with his shoulder. He straightened back up quickly and Arthur suddenly found himself upside down and slung over Eames’ shoulder. “Eames!”

“I’ll put you down when you agree not to have any more coffee for the day.”

“Wha-I…you don’t…no!” Arthur could feel his face burning, and the sound of Cobb laughing across the room certainly wasn’t helping. “Put me down!”

“Not until you agree to not have any more coffee.” Eames sounded infuriatingly self-satisfied, and Arthur could almost see the smug look on his face. “And you have to mean it too. If you agree and then try to make another cup anyways, I _will_ pick you back up. That’s both a threat and a promise.”

“Eames, I swear to _god_ …”

“I really don’t think you’re in much of a position to be making threats, darling.” Eames walked back over to where he’d been working and began sifting through papers with his free hand, his other arm wrapped around the back of Arthur’s legs, holding him in place. Arthur could feel his face getting increasingly red, though he decided to blame that on the fact that he was currently upside-down. “Not in the slightest.”

Arthur considered his options, running through them as quickly as he could. He was _tired_ and he wanted more caffeine, but there was no way he was getting out of Eames' grip without a significant struggle. And he had no doubt that Eames' threat to pick him back up if he tried making another cup of coffee was a valid one. After a moment he sighed in defeat. "What about black tea? Can we compromise on black tea?"

"One cup. That's it."

"But what if I-"

" _One cup._ "

"That's not…you don't…" Arthur groaned, resting his forehead against Eames' lower back. "Fine. Okay. One cup of black tea."

"It's a deal then." Eames set him down carefully, grinning. "I will _absolutely_ pick you back up without hesitation if you try to make any more though."

"I know, I know." Arthur tried to straighten his shirt as best he could. His face was burning as he brushed his hair back into place, and he knew full well he was probably an embarrassing shade of red. "I don't doubt you on that."

Eames went back to going through the papers on his desk. "See? It's perfectly possible to get Arthur to stop drinking coffee. You just have to go about it the right way."

Arthur glared across the room at Cobb as he walked over to the counter. "If you _ever_ try to pick me up, I will break your arm without hesitation."

Cobb held his hands up in surrender, still laughing. "I wasn't even going to try it."

XXX

Arthur winced as he slid down the wall, his leg nearly giving out under him. The bullet thankfully hadn’t hit his femoral artery- he’d have already bled out if that had been the case- but the injury was bad enough that he knew he couldn’t keep walking on that leg.

Eames came up beside him, crouching down. “How is it?”

“Not great.” Arthur glanced down at his leg, then back up at the stairs in front of them. Even just looking at them made his leg scream in pain. “I’ll make it to the drop, but there’s no way I’m making it up to the top.”

“Making it to the drop isn’t that helpful if you aren’t somewhere where you’ll _actually_ drop.”

Arthur shrugged. “I’m far enough up that I should still be able to catch it. I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head back against the wall. There was the possibility that he _wasn’t_ far enough up, but he figured he’d deal with that if and when the time came. “You should get going, there isn’t that much time left. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“I’m not leaving you here. Not when I’m a lot less convinced than you are that you’re somewhere where you’ll catch the drop.”

Arthur frowned. “Eames, there’s no way I can make it up those stairs, you know that.”

“Which is why you won’t be climbing them.” Eames shifted so that his back was to Arthur. “Come on, climb on.”

Arthur stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m carrying you up the stairs. Let’s go.” When Arthur didn’t move, Eames glanced back at him. “Darling, we’re both in agreement that there isn’t much time left before the drop, so getting a move on would be appreciated.”

Arthur considered trying to argue further, but he knew they didn’t have the time for that and he doubted he’d be able to convince Eames anyways. He sat forward and grabbed hold of Eames’ shoulders, gripping them tightly and trying not to gasp in pain as Eames leaned forward. He _did_ gasp in pain as Eames hooked his arms underneath Arthur’s legs and stood up, the grip and movement sending pain shooting through his leg. 

Eames looked back at him once he was on his feet, expression concerned. “You alright, love?”

“Mm.” Arthur nodded, shutting his eyes and trying to breathe through the pain. It lessened after a moment, dropping down to something a little more manageable. Still painful, but he could get through it. “I’m alright.”

Eames nodded and started up the stairs. “So is this going to become a thing? Me carrying you on jobs?”

Arthur frowned. “This is only the second time it’s happened. I wouldn’t say that’s ‘becoming a thing’.”

“I don’t know, we’re two thirds of the way to a pattern. I’d call that ‘becoming a thing’. And,” Eames glanced back at him with a grin, “I _did_ pick you up in the workshop too. So that’s three times.”

“First of all, the workshop incident doesn’t count since it was _wholly_ against my will. And second, you specifically said carrying me on jobs. So even if we were counting the workshop incident we’d still be at two, not three.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Eames paused. “It _could_ become a thing though.”

“You know, I’m really starting to wish you’d left me behind again.”

Eames chuckled and continued up the stairs. He was still moving at a good pace even with the added weight, and Arthur had to admit it was a bit impressive how easily Eames seemed to be able to carry him. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant either, being carried like this. His leg still hurt but it was leagues better than trying to walk on his own and Eames’ insistence on carrying him was…nice, even if it had been unnecessary. Eames shifted his grip, his hand sliding up the back of Arthur’s uninjured thigh slightly, and Arthur looked away, staring intently at the wall as they continued their way up. He could feel his cheeks getting warm and was glad that Eames couldn’t see his face right now. 

By the time they reached the top landing Arthur had rested his head against the side of Eames’ neck. The blood loss wasn’t enough to kill him yet but it was enough to make him lightheaded, and trying to keep his head up seemed like more trouble than it was worth. On the plus side, at least, he supposed it also meant whatever blush had crept into his cheeks was long gone by now. Eames set him down on one of the benches lining the wall carefully, sitting back against the wall and letting Arthur lean against him as the music began echoing through the stairwell. “Seems like we made it just in time.”

“Mm.”

“How’re you doing?”

“Tired.”

Eames laughed softly. “Listen, if either one of us is going to be tired, I feel like it really should be me. I _did_ just carry you up multiple flights of stairs.”

Arthur grinned slightly, letting his eyes close. “You were the one who insisted. I tried to tell you that you didn’t need to.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Eames paused. “I really do think this is going to become a thing.”

Arthur laughed quietly. “It absolutely is not.” Though, as Arthur thought about it, he supposed he wouldn’t mind _that_ terribly if it did.

XXX

Most of the violence in extraction generally took place in dreams, but that confinement was far from absolute. Anyone who'd been in the field as long as Arthur knew that. Being good at extraction invariably meant making enemies, and he took a myriad of precautions to avoid getting caught in the cross hairs of the various people and organizations who'd put a price on his head over the years. Plans and precautions could only get him so far though, and he still occasionally found himself stuck in some unpleasant situations.

Or, more specifically in this case, kidnapped, cuffed to a chair, and high out of his goddamn mind.

He didn't actually know who'd abducted him; they seemed to be far more interested in causing pain than actually questioning him, and that made narrowing down their identity significantly harder. Especially now. He blinked slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. Whoever it was who had him had given him something a little while ago and the world had started to get fuzzy after that. Really fuzzy. He supposed he should probably find that concerning, but the slight reprieve in pain was certainly welcome. The fact that he'd been drugged in the first place was almost _definitely_ a bad sign, but he found it increasingly difficult to care about that.

A sound in the hallway caught his attention and Arthur looked over towards the door, the movement causing him to tip slightly in the chair. The sounds had maybe been happening for a little while, he wasn't actually sure, but they were definitely _louder_ now and he figured that maybe meant he should pay attention to them. There was yelling; a fight maybe? Arthur frowned. That probably wasn't good. Or maybe it was. If someone was fighting whoever had kidnapped him, maybe that was a good sign for him. 

He was still trying to figure out whether the possible fight was a good thing or a bad thing for him when a figure rushed into the room and over to where he was seated. "Arthur, Jesus, are you okay?"

Arthur frowned for a moment before smiling. His eyes were having a hard time focusing, but he knew that voice. "Eames!"

His voice was slurred, even to his own ears, and Eames paused in unlocking his cuffs, looking up with what looked like a frown. "Are you good?"

"Mhm." Arthur nodded emphatically. The pain was mostly dulled now and Eames was here, so things were decidedly looking up. "Just…high. On something. Dunno what." He thought for a moment, trying to think back on anything that might give a clue as to what he'd been given, but after a moment he gave up, shrugging. The movement sent him tipping and Eames reached up, steadying him. "'m fine though, you're here so I'm fine."

"Right." Eames sounded significantly less sure of the situation than Arthur was. He glanced back at the doorway, where sounds of a fight were still coming in from the hall. "Listen darling, we need to make a pretty quick escape. Do you think you can walk?"

Arthur thought about the question for a moment before deciding that the best way to answer it was to try and stand up. He immediately started to fall, Eames barely catching him in time to keep him from dropping to the ground. "No, don't think so."

"Yeah, I noticed." Eames hesitated a ment longer before scooping Arthur up in his arms. The movement was surprising and Arthur gripped Eames' jacket tightly as the world around him seemed to spin. "Guess we're going out like this then." 

The sudden movement as Eames set off at a fast pace was disorienting at first, but Arthur got used to it quickly enough. He was vaguely aware of someone coming up beside them as Eames ran down the hall but he didn't give it much mind, focusing instead on the feeling of Eames carrying him. It was a _nice_ feeling. Really nice, actually. He rested his head on Eames' chest. "I like it when you carry me. You're very strong."

"I…thanks?"

“Only you though,” Arthur clarified. He felt it was important to do that. “Not other people. I just like being carried by you.”

"Bloody hell, you really are high, aren't you?"

"Mm. Very." Arthur stayed happily nestled in Eames' arms as he and whoever was with him made their way through the halls of the building, only vaguely aware of what was happening around him outside of the feeling of Eames’ grip. It was less pleasant when they finally made it back outside and he let out an annoyed noise and buried his face against Eames’ shirt, the sudden bright sunlight hurting his eyes. A van door slid open and a moment later things were a bit darker again, enough so at least that he could open his eyes without it hurting. 

“Come on, floor it. We need to get out of here _now_.” Eames’ voice was urgent and he was out of breath. Arthur supposed that was fair; he _had_ just carried Arthur all the way out of the building. The van rumbled and then Arthur felt everything start to move, even if he couldn't see it with his face still buried in Eames' shirt. After a few seconds of movement with no gunshots Eames seemed to settle back against the seat, turning his attention back to Arthur. "How're you doing, love? You doing okay?"

Arthur nodded, making a small noise of protest as he felt Eames start to shift him off his lap and onto the seat next to him. He gripped Eames' jacket a bit tighter. "Don't wanna be put down."

Eames paused then laughed softly, his arm coming up around Arthur's shoulders and pulling him back in. It was a nice sound, gentle amidst the all the chaos of everything else, and Arthur decided he liked it quite a bit. "Alright. I won't put you down then."

Arthur nodded, closing his eyes again. It was alright. He was safe now, Eames had gotten him out. He could already feel the dull edge of pain starting to break back through the haze of whatever he'd been given and he knew it probably wouldn't be long before the rest of the pain he knew he should be in made it back to his awareness as well. Right now, though, he was quite comfortable. Eames ran a hand through his hair, murmuring that he was okay, he was alright, and Arthur relaxed against him. Quite comfortable indeed.

XXX

"Shit."

Arthur stared up at the control panel, annoyance flaring in his chest. Who the fuck put a control panel on the ceiling? The tunnel was at least relatively low hanging, but it was still tall enough that there was no way he'd be able to get in and short the system without something to stand on, and a quick glance around the area made it clear he didn't have many options. Or any, really. 

"What's the plan?" 

Eames had come up beside him and was looking up at the control panel as well. Arthur sighed. "Try and find a way to reach it. Otherwise the job's fucked." He looked around, hoping in vain that maybe he'd missed some sort of box or chair in the area that he could stand on. "This is why I wasn't a fan of this plan to begin with. Marks with this much dream experience always have annoying security measures."

Eames nodded. "Don't really seem to be a lot of things to stand on down here."

"Yes, Eames, I noticed that. Thank you."

Eames set the backpack he was carrying down, crouching down slightly. "Well, let's try this then." 

Arthur barely had time to react before he felt arms around his thighs and suddenly found himself being lifted several feet in the air, leaning forward and gripping Eames' shoulders to try and steady himself. "Eames, what the _fuck_ are you doing?"

"Picking you up so you can reach the control panel." Eames adjusted his grip, hoisting Arthur slightly and shifting the position of his arms. "Can you reach it?"

"What- I-" Arthur paused, looking up. The control panel admittedly _was_ significantly closer now; it took a bit of stretching, but he was able to reach it now. "Yeah, I can."

"Good. Now hurry up," Eames grunted, his voice muffled slightly by Arthur’s shirt. "I can only hold you up like this for so long."

Arthur nodded and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small kit of tools and prying the panel open. The mark was a tech whiz, so his sub-security precautions came in the form of electronic surveillance systems in addition to armed security. If they were going to be able to extract the information they'd been hired to get, they'd have to disrupt the surveillance or else they'd have an armed force waiting for them around every corner, and they simply didn't have the time or the firepower to deal with that. Ariadne had specifically built a maintenance corridor into the design to give them easy access into the system and now that Arthur actually had access to the panel it wouldn't be hard to find the right circuits and short the system out. 

He hadn’t anticipated Eames picking him up like this though. His arms were wrapped tightly around Arthur’s upper thighs, forearms resting just underneath his ass, which was a…distracting feeling. And the feeling of Eames’ face pressed against his stomach wasn’t helping much either. They were all, much to Arthur’s annoyance, dressed in casual jeans and t-shirts to fit in with the mark’s casual attitude and clothing preferences, and the stretching still necessary to reach the control panel meant his shirt was riding up slightly. After a moment he felt the scrape of stubble against the bare skin of his stomach and he blinked, nearly dropping the small screwdriver in his hand. 

Eames shifted and Arthur could feel the muscles in his arms. “I wasn’t kidding about hurrying up, darling. I know I joke about you being small and easy to carry, but this isn’t exactly the easiest position to hold you in.”

“I…right. On it.” Arthur cleared his throat slightly, face burning, and focused back on the circuits above him. He’d managed to locate the circuits he needed so shorting the system shouldn’t be that difficult, he just had to focus. Which he could do. Easily. Even with the feeling of Eames’ stubble scratching his skin as he shifted again also vying for his attention. After a few more seconds he nodded, slipping his tool kit back into his pocket. “Okay, I’m done.”

Eames’ grip around his legs loosened without warning and Arthur dropped down to the ground, stumbling slightly as he landed. Eames’ arms were still around him loosely though, keeping him from falling, and he grabbed onto Eames’ arms to steady himself. It wasn’t until he was steady again that he realized how close they were standing, chests barely a few inches apart. Eames seemed just as caught off guard by the sudden closeness as he was. “You…you good?”

Arthur blinked, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt. Eames looked red as well, but Arthur supposed it was probably just the exertion from having to hold him up. “I-yeah, I-I’m fine.” They stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes, until Arthur cleared his throat again and pulled back, looking away. “Thanks for getting me up closer.”

“Yeah, course.” Eames brushed his hair back awkwardly and picked up the backpack with the rest of the gear they needed for the job. “We should probably get going.”

“Yeah, we should.” Arthur set off down the corridor quickly, wanting to get out of the space and back to the job as fast as he could. Anything to give him something else to focus on.

XXX

Arthur stopped at the edge of the pavement, looking down at the small path- if it could even be called that- that led into the undergrowth and then back up at Eames. “No.”

Eames rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s just a little mud.”

“No, it’s _a lot_ of mud, and I’m wearing dress shoes.” Arthur frowned. “When you said you wanted to show me something, I assumed you meant a building or cafe or something, not…whatever this is.”

“It’s worth it, I promise.”

“Maybe, but it’s still a mess and I’m still wearing dress shoes.”

Eames paused, grinning after a moment. “I could carry you.”

Arthur sighed. “Seriously?”

“I really do want to show you this and you’re being a priss, so this seems like the best compromise. It’s only a couple hundred foot walk or so anyways, I’ve carried you farther.” Eames walked back over to where Arthur was standing. Arthur rolled his eyes but otherwise didn’t protest as Eames bent down and hooked his arm behind Arthur’s knees, other arm around his back, picking him up in a smooth motion that felt oddly familiar by now. “And besides,” Arthur couldn’t see Eames’ face anymore, but he could hear him grinning, “I seem to remember you saying that you _like_ being carried by me. Because I’m strong.”

Arthur groaned, resting his head against Eames’ collar and trying not to smile. “Shut up. I was high when I said that, you can’t hold it against me.”

“I can and I will. It was too wonderful a comment to ever let you live it down.”

“God, I hate you sometimes.” There was no malice behind the words, Arthur’s smile pushing through despite his best efforts. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve been embarrassed by this but, as much as he’d argue that being drugged meant what he said couldn’t be used against him, Eames wasn’t wrong. Arthur _did_ rather like being carried by him. He let himself relax in Eames’ grip; it was nice to be able to enjoy the feeling without being injured, even if it also meant trying to ignore the blush he knew was creeping into his cheeks. 

The undergrowth and trees quickly gave way to an open grassy area. The area was bounded by a well-tended brick wall and Eames walked over to it, setting Arthur down on it carefully. “There, not a drop of mud on you.”

“Very much appreciated, thank you.” Arthur turned slightly, looking out over the wall. The city spread out below them, buildings lining the steep slope until it leveled out and eventually met the lake. Out beyond the lakeshore, the snow-capped peaks of the Alps rose out from the other side of the water, painted a vibrant gold by the setting sun. Montreux had always had one of his favourite views of the Swiss Alps, and the view from here in particular was phenomenal. “Okay,” Arthur nodded slightly, staring out at the view, “I can see why you wanted to show me this.”

“I thought you might like it. Best place in the city to watch the sunset.”

“Which is why I’m assuming it’s private property.” Arthur glanced down at the wall Eames had set him on; it was neat and precise, and almost definitely privately owned. 

“We’re already criminals, darling. What’s a little more trespassing?” Eames leaned against the wall, one of his hands resting on the stone next to Arthur’s hip. “The homeowner isn’t home right now anyways, so we’re fine.”

Arthur turned his attention back to the view in front of him. The weather was perfect for catching the sunset, with just enough clouds to catch the light and bright colours but not enough to actually obscure the view. After several days of rain and greyness, the sudden explosion of colour was a breathtaking sight. “It’s beautiful.”

Eames hummed in agreement. “Told you it was worth it.” 

They watched the sunset in silence, the light shifting from gold to orange to red as the sun continued to dip below the horizon. When Arthur felt Eames’ hand rest hesitantly on his hip after a few minutes he shifted his position so that Eames could wrap his arm around his waist. It was a nice feeling and he leaned into the touch, resting his head on Eames’ shoulder. He could feel the heat creeping back into his face, but found he didn’t quite mind it anymore. Not when it came with Eames’ arm around him as well.

“You know, I do…” Arthur looked over at Eames as the light began to fade to the dark blue of dusk, words faltering as he caught sight of Eames’ expression. He was watching Arthur with a soft, fond look and when he started to lean in Arthur leaned in as well, meeting him in the middle. The kiss was soft and gentle and Eames brought his hand up to cup Arthur’s cheek, running his thumb across his cheekbone.

Eames rested his forehead against Arthur’s when he finally pulled away, laughing softly. “Sorry, you were saying something?”

Arthur smiled. “It wasn’t anything important.” He closed the space between them again briefly, smiling against Eames’ lips. “Just that I _do_ expect you to carry me back out when we leave.”

Eames laughed a bit harder. “I think I can manage that.” He shifted to look back out over the lake, pulling Arthur in against his side. “Though I’m curious, is it because of the mud, or just because you like me carrying you that much?”

Arthur rested his head back on Eames’ shoulder, chuckling. “Would you believe me if I said the mud?”

“Not in the slightest, darling.”

“Well,” he smiled as Eames’ hand settled back on his waist, “there’s your answer then.”


End file.
